The XMen: Series One
by GoldenCherries
Summary: This is basically my idea of what a live action televised series of the XMen would be like. Includes everything: adventure, romance, suspense, etc. And all the characters in the X Universe will have a part. Full and much better summary inside!
1. Prologue

_**PLEASE READ:**_

OK, here's how the penny spins. This little story has been buzzing around in my mind for quite some time now, so I decided why leave it in there? This fanfiction I'm writing is the result: whether it's good or bad, you decide. Basically I've always thought that there should be a live action TV series of X-Men shown once a week, kind of like Charmed. But no, sigh. They won't do it, dammit. So I've decided to do it myself D Yep, I'm writing an X-Men series. I really have no life.

It takes place in my own Ideology universe. The X Team consists of: Jean, Cyclops, Beast, Storm, Dazzler, Bobby, Wolverine, Rogue, Betsy and Warren. Sometimes, on special missions, other mutants will be joining them, but I won't stay listing them from now.

Jean and Cyclops have been married for quite some time now and have a kid.

All the characters' appearances and characterisations will remain more or less like those of the movies. I'm hoping I won't go OOC or something.

Disclaimer: Would you believe me if I told you I owned the X-Men and their little golden world? Not likely huh? Well it's tiring writing the same thing all the time! Fine, I _don't_ own the X-Men, they were created by Stan Lee and belong to Marvel Comics. Eurgh.

I will be introducing some OC's, some minor characters; others, one in particular, will be quite important. Please don't use them without permission, otherwise you will have to face my flesh eating slug, Lawrence. No, don't sigh and roll your eyes. That's what Paris Hilton did sniggers

And of course, please review! I really would appreciate any sort of feedback. Im not one of those writers whose policy is "if u dont review i wont rite n e more so haha lol there!" I just enjoy writing. But reviews really boost an author's morale, and actually help him/her write better. Any criticism is welcome, ConCrit, anything except flames. If I wanted my self esteem lowered I'd go spend a week in Lucerne with my Aunt Hope.

This is also my first fanfiction that I'm publishing on the Net.

Well, enough blabbering. Onto Atlantis!

**PROLOGUE**

**----MANY YEARS INTO THE FUTURE----**

One evening of late summer, during an unusually tempestuous storm, a young man trudged through the streets of New York, head buried inside the long collar of his overcoat. The mud squelched beneath his boots and rain trickled into his neck, infiltrating his layers of clothes; however his walk remained resolute and firm- nothing was going to stop him from this mission, especially not some unseasonable storm like this.

As he plodded along his eyes flitted here and there at his surroundings, and the sights they took in tore at his heart. Around him was not a city, but a bare wasteland, complete with destroyed houses, mutilated trees and smashed vehicles lying on their sides. From time to time people hurried past him, some yelling with distressed voices, others with grim faces and clutching weapons in their hands. Some stopped and pleaded with him for help, but he could only shake his head, look at them with pity and continue on his way.

It was the children he felt for most- vessels of innocence tortured by the cruel fate that had been prepared for them by others who sought only to destroy. They suffered and wept, adults before their own time. The pity of it? Potential… children were all about potential…

He was fast approaching his destination. He kept walking along a street for a few more minutes, then turned quickly and ducked into a small dark alley, which led to a dead end.

It was quiet, very quiet, and this made him uneasy. The hairs at the back of his neck prickled and stood up as he pressed himself against the wall, feeling the hard stone bricks with his right hand. The other was clutching a large metallic gun held to a large artillery belt fastened around his waist.

Eventually, a tinny beep in his earphone told him he had found the right brick. The chip embedded into his finger had found the other chip that had been embedded into the right brick. A few seconds of crackling static ensued, and then soft a voice said, "Password?"

He said, "Thanataphobia. I declare myself Bishop."

"Good, you're here, and not a moment too soon. Wait a few seconds. We'll teleport you inside."

Oh, bloody shit. He hated teleporting.

Her squeezed his eyes shut as the familiar tingling sensation started to prickle around his body, then all of a sudden he began to shake violently and within the next few seconds he was standing inside the brick wall… inside a large metallic room where about three other people had been waiting for him for the past hour. Two men were standing around a huge machine, tapping different buttons and pulling levers here and there. Next to them a tall blonde woman was speaking rapidly into a TeleCommunicator.

"Sector 2 to Sector 1. Sector 1… do you copy? Agent 9 has arrived. Mission shall commence shortly. Yes. All should proceed according to plan. Any difficulties, we will let you know." A short pause. "Yes indeed. God help us." She clicked the TeleCommunicator shut with a sigh, then smiled at Bishop.

"I'm so relieved you made it here safely," she said, then walked over to him and they hugged fiercely.

"Me too, Agent 1," he replied. The warmth and familiarity of her body against his calmed down his rattled nerves and eased his troubled mind. "Is everything ready?"

"Yes," she said, and buried her face into his shoulder. In a muffled voice she said, "I don't want you to go."

He sighed. She looked up at him then, her eyes brimmed with tears, looking directly into his. He said, "I know. Heck, I'm dying not to. But we've been working together on this for far too long now… t'aint fair anyways to ask someone else to do it. 'Sides, it shouldn't take much…one gunshot and it should all be over…" He shuddered slightly and she held him tighter.

"Got it!"

They both looked over to where the two men stood near the machine. One of them clapped his hands together with glee while the other rolled his eyes, clearly not that amused.

"Did you get it configured, Sy?" she asked breathlessly, vanishing from Bishop's side.

"Yup. This baby's all set and rearing to go." Simon looked over to where Bishop stood gazing warily at the machine.

"Better get over here, dude," he called. "You'll be on your way in two sec's." He looked over to the other guy. "Yo, Marcus, this is so cool!"

Marcus rolled his eyes. "You may be the brightest nineteen-year-old that ever existed, but definitely not the most mature." He turned over to Bishop. "Hold out your arm."

He fastened a thick, metallic band around Bishop's wrist, and began explaining. "This button here is in case of emergencies. If the band is in any way damaged or malfunctioning, press it immediately and you'll be back here in no time. This button _here_ is a small recording device- a portable notebook, if you like. We've stored a whole bunch of stuff on it- even images, just in case, you know." He pressed it and holograms beamed onto the ceiling, flickering slightly. "This is to prove you're legit, in case anyone calls you a lunatic or anything. Which they probably will."

Agent 1 turned away from them for a while as Marcus continued explaining the band. She looked up and stared hard at the machine.

Time travel… had you mentioned it ten or so years ago, people would have laughed in your face and made some crass joke about H.G. Wells. But technology is an amazing and unpredictable thing, and it was only a couple of years ago that Professor Maxwell HazeazeHahhswhdpowhpf of Cambridge had amazed the world with the first ever successful time machine. Of course he had never made his secret public… but with spies everywhere and some with mutant powers, nothing remained secret for long…

"OK, that's about it I think. You're ready," said Marcus. "Off you go, then." Sy made a little sound of strangled excitement in the back of his throat.

"What, already?" asked Bishop quite alarmed.

"Of course," said Marcus, "there's a future to be saved and no time like the present to do it." He chuckled at his little joke; nobody else did.

"Good luck," Agent 1 said in a small voice. He turned around and caught her lips in his own, absorbing the feel of her and her features of her face into his memory. When they pulled apart her face was full of tears.

"It's just so hard," she said. "She was the best friend I ever had."

"I know. I know." He embraced one last time. She pushed him away then, smiling at him furiously. "Go save the world then."

"OK."

"Will we ever see each other again?"

"I can't- say. I don't know…"

"Don't worry, Bish," said Sy. "F'you don't come back I'll marry the girl for you."

"You insensitive twat," said Marcus.

Bishop forced a laugh, and stepped inside the time machine…


	2. 1 Mayhem At The Mall

Mayhem At The Mall

"All the islands in the ocean… all the heavens in the motion…lemme show you the world in my eyes!" sang Jubilation Lee rather shrilly, as she walked arm in arm with her two best friends into the mall. It was a beautiful, sunny summer's day, and the place was brimming with cliques of teenagers, families complete with sticky ice-cream slurping toddlers, couples inhabiting a world of their own as they drifted about with joined hands. Snatches of laughter and music was the background to this blissful day and everything felt right with the world.

"Jubes. Shut. Up." Said Dazzler with gritted teeth, though truthfully she really was amused, but with the obligatory self- consciousness of an eighteen-year-old with a reputation to keep up she outwardly berated her friend.

"Yeah… just think of the dogs at least… with the notes that your voice is hitting… he he," sniggered Rogue, trying to make a witty joke but failing, though thankfully in the comfortable company of her closest companions.

"Awww," said Jubilee, playfully shoving both of them with her elbows. "I'm just in a good mood, dudes. It's great weather, loads of cute and hopefully single guys about, we're loaded and surrounded by clothes, music, _candy_… what's there not to be happy about?"

"Yeah well," said Rogue, "On second thoughts… I would rather have my eardrums pierced by your voice than by some loser jumping out in a black mask yelling "DIE, MUTANTS, DIE!"

People around them overheard Rogue's raised voice and started to nervously move away from the trio, some pulling their kids away who had begun to stare owlishly.

"What's the matter with both of you? You're not Dave Gahan or The Mutant Liberation Front. Get it through your heads," pleaded Dazzler.

Jubilee laughed. "Fine, fine. You get embarrassed too easily, Ally." She let out a contented sigh. "Well dudes, the mall's our oyster, so to speak. Where do we go from here?"

Rogue wanted gloves, Dazzler wanted to check out the new Alanis album. "I'm up for anything," Jubilee said. "By the way, what time do we have to meet Storm and Jean?"

"I think at around 5.00 pm in front of Gap," said Rogue. "Well. Unless there's like an attack or something, in which case we hit the Active Com to Storm and get into butt kicking mode. Though I seriously hope it won't come to that. The weather's so gorgeous all the freaky mutant bad guys should really be having a day off or something too."

"Yeah, you think old Jugs is out carousing with a beautiful blonde chick or something?" sniggered Jubilee. "Showing her the top 100 ways to smash through walls and knock down heavy buildings! Fat chance. Oh well. What will happen, will happen. That's always been my motto. Now let's go get those gloves."

The three friends went continued on their way, chattering, laughing and talking, happy for once to be innocent teenagers enjoying the world, instead of young superheroes trying to save it.

Three other, older woman were currently in the same mall, sitting around outside a café, chatting and drinking latte's. Although they acted perfectly ordinary and kept themselves to themselves, they stood out from the crowd; simply due to their colourful hair- a bob of pure white, long, brilliant red-gold tresses, and thick, purplish black locks. All the men throwing covetous looks towards the little round table would have been crushed to learn that the topic being discussed over those latte's were the three women's partners.

"Well, I wasn't really going to try drag Logan all the way here to the mall; would have started a pointless argument and anyway, he hates this place with a passion," the white haired one was saying.

"I guess… but for heaven's sake, Ororo, you got that guy practically eating out of your hand. Which is _not_ an easy feat. How d'you do it?"

"Sex," smirked Storm, sipping her drink, her dark eyes swirling with amusement.

"Ah," smiled Jean good humouredly. "To tame the Wolverine… but let's not go there," she added hastily, watching the face of the dark- haired woman opposite her crumple with disgust.

"Thank you," said the latter demurely.

Storm chuckled. "Betsy, you are probably the only woman in the mansion who has never dreamt of… ahem… taming the Wolverine."

"Oh, I have, just not in the way you're thinking of," was the curt response. "Many's the time I've dreamt of dragging that guy to the Danger Room and giving him a swift kick in the- ''

"But don't you find," interrupted Storm, "that he can be… just a little bit, well, charming, at times?"

"Yeah, as charming as finding a Band-Aid in your Burrito," said Betsy. "Honestly, how do you two find that wolfman attractive? He swaggers and struts around the mansion like he owns it, sticking those foul cigars in his mouth, and when he's not busy stealing every vehicle that Scott owns and ripping his shirt off on front of the pool, driving those poor teenage girls positively _lovesick_, he just hangs around irritating the hell out of me."

"He really has a sensitive side, though," said Jean thoughtfully. "He is very animalistic, but that's just his nature. Logan's actually one of the kindest people I've ever known. A few of those poor lovesick teenagers are in fact very close to him, and he to them… take Rogue and Jubilee for instance. Why, I'm pretty sure that they go to him for advice and comfort more than to us."

"And don't you find that scary?" asked Betsy. "Logan's word just revolves around beer, sex, and other foul testosterone-driven activities. He has a bad influence on everyone. Even the cat."

"Hey, now, lay off a bit. That's the man I'm sleeping with you're ripping apart," said Storm, grinning. She was too used to Betsy's strong aversion to Logan to mind her complaints much. "What about you and Warren, anyway? Is he any closer to popping the question?"

"Oh, God, I really have no bloody idea," said Betsy, "I mean, we're great and everything, I love the guy to bits, and hopefully he feels the same way, but whenever we get round to talking about- oh my!- the future, he changes the subject, or well, we end up in bed."

"Nice," laughed Jean, then she sighed. "It seems so long ago, the day that Scott proposed. Yet here we both are still, with our 11th anniversary next month, with the most beautiful 8 year old girl the world has ever seen to show for it."

"Rachel is an angel," agreed Storm, "everyone loves her. The kids are simply crazy about her and the Professor adores her. He's so happy to finally be a godfather."

"I know," said Jean with a warm smile, "and-''

She suddenly stopped speaking and froze, her head cocked as though listening to something.

Betsy and Storm were instantly on the alert.

"Jean? What is it?"

Screams and shouts then began to build gradually, coming from the lower floors of the mall. The customers in the café shifted uneasily and the chattering died down a little.

"Oh great, we all know what this means," muttered Betsy. If the world is not going to allow me to enjoy at least one latte a week, then _I _am going to stop saving it at least once a week…"

Jean got up quickly, the other two following suit. "Let's go,'' she said, "we got a situation."

Trying to ignore everyone's curious stares, they raced out of the café (lattes already paid for, they were too used to these situations for a la carte) and down the elevator, pushing their way past people and down the lower floor, where they were met with total and utter confusion.

People were running this way and that, children crying and girls screaming hysterically; everyone was casting their shopping away wildly in order to run faster. Policemen were milling about helplessly, trying to calm everyone down but failing completely, for they were just as scared.

"Storm! Jean! Betsy!"

They looked round to see Jubilee, Rogue and Dazzler running towards them, looking very panicked.

"Girls! What the hell is going on?" cried Betsy.

"There's a crazy guy on the loose- he's got the biggest gun I've ever seen, and he's chasing this little girl!" panted Jubilee. She had a bruised eye and a cut lip. "We tried stopping him- I gave him one of my biggest paffs- but he got away- he knocked me back with this…blast thing… I think he's a mutant!"

Jean shook her head, confused. "None of this is really making any sense," she said. "After one little girl, you said? Why is everyone running all over the place- OOOMPH!"

Before she could continue, however, she was knocked forward onto the floor by something small and heavy landing on the small of her back. The people around her yelled with fright, and the scrawny little girl who had just knocked Jean flat on her face scrambled to her feet, and squeaked angrily, "Watch where you're going, lady!"

She glared at everyone, particularly Jubilee. "What did you attack him for? You got him awful mad! He wants to _kill_ me!"

"We were only trying to help!" said Jubilee indignantly, as she helped Jean to her feet. "Anyway, where is he now?"

Her question was soon answered as more shouts and screams were heard from a distance. They turned to see a crowd of people run past them in a rush, followed by the man who was presumably the little girl's attacker. He was indeed carrying some sort of weapon that looked much like a gun, though like none they had ever seen before. As he drew nearer they could see his face more clearly; it was wearing an expression that the X-Men knew well- the look of a killer.

"Freeze him, Jean!" cried Storm, but as Jean lifted her hand the man ducked and rolled, lifting his gun and shooting a deadly looking laser beam at the girl who screamed, leaped sideways and landed on Jubilee. Both fell to the floor, his their heads and lost consciousness.

"Jubilee!" yelled Dazzler in fright. She lifted her hands and with a triumphant yell she managed to blind the attacker with one of her powerful light blasts. "Got 'im!" she shouted, as he shrieked in agony and grabbed his eyes , dropping his weapon as he did do, which Storm rescued immediately. She buckled a little under its weight; it was extremely heavy to carry.

Now what?" said Jean, but before anyone could reply the man, still lumbering about blindly, put out one clenched fist and aimed it towards Jean's direction. Bright, narrow beams of energy escaped from between his fingers and singed the top of Jean's head, instead hitting a shop window, which shattered with a loud crash. Bits of glass flew everywhere, and strangely enough disintegrated into nothing.

"That's it," said Rogue, a shaky note in her voice, and before anybody could stop her she leapt forward and placed her hands on the man's hands, which were still covering his damaged eyes. He gave a yelp of pain and tried to shake her off, but he was already weakened by previous injuries and did not manage. She grit her teeth as his life force flowed into hers, yet held on with fierce determination.

She started and winced as what she hated most began to happen; his memories started to flash across her mind and now she knew hat he was part of her, forever. But these memories were like nothing she had ever before been subjected to; images of people crying, screaming, shouting; war torn streets, grey and ruined; sounds of bullets and hideous machines, destroying, tearing, killing... and then a voice, and a terrible face... but the face was beautiful too, and so was the voice that belonged to it...

She felt someone pull her away and the man collapsed, twitching and shuddering before rolling into his side, unconscious. She shivered and shook, and she heard Jean say quietly, "Relax, relax. It's over now. You did what you had to do. I'm proud of you. Well done." Dazzler came over to Rogue, a sorrowful expression on her face, and put her arms around her friend carefully. She knew how much Rogue hated and avoided using her powers during combat.

"Relax," repeated Jean, and turned to Storm, who was examining the scene before her: three unconscious people on the floor, one apparently extremely hostile. This section of the mall was now completely deserted; people had been more than happy to leave the X-Men deal with the crazed lunatic by themselves.

"I think we'd better get back to the mansion straight away," said Storm, "We'll take the girl with us and even the weirdo. I'm sure the Professor would like to investigate." _I know I'd like to,_ she said to herself. She looked down at the gun (for want of a better word) in her hands. It was long, thick and metallic, covered with countless complicated looking buttons and switches. There was no trigger or anything that looked remotely like a safety catch, so she felt slightly nervous holding it with her bare hands.

Rogue remained silent whilst the others conferred and discussed. She couldn't get the images out of her head... looking at the stranger now sprawled on the floor, she felt an extreme sense of apprehension beginning to uncoil within her. Whoever he was, he had definitely not come here with good intentions.


End file.
